Chronicles of Stacy, Part II

Continuation of a previous post, chronicling the history of our interactions with our crazy neighbor Stacey.


Dear Stacy,

The day we knew you had mental problems, February 2010
Myself and a group of my good friends were having a nice evening together making dinner and getting ready for our Twilight marathon.  The guest list: myself and my good friends Giulia, Ashley, and Kim.  On the menu: baked marinated salmon, salad, cous cous, and homemade cornbread.  For desert, Grandma's famous chocolate cake with strawberries, and strawberry shortbread fixings with vanilla ice cream a la mode.  On the entertainment menu: the first and second installation of the Twilight movies, enhanced by a widescreen HDTV.  The forecast for the evening was light-hearted and jovial... it was going to be a great night.  Until, while we were preparing dinner, waiting for AShley to join us...

BANG BANG BANG...

Me, in the kitchen with Giulia and Kim:  Oh, sweet!  That must be Ashley.  Giulia, can you go get the door?

Giulia: Sure!  *walks around the corner to open the door*

(in the background, I hear some words, and a slam of a door)

Giulia:  Uhh... Maggie!  Can you come here please!  Your neighbor....

As I walked around the corner to see what was going on, I find Giulia looking at me with a surprised (VERY surprised) look on her face.  Also, she's holding what appears to be a vacuum cleaner (note: not my vacuum cleaner).  Apparently, YOU, Stacy, found it essential at that moment to knock on our door and SHOVE a vacuum cleaner at my unsuspecting guest.  Fortunately, I had told Giulia about many of your "special" qualities and sketchy escapades.  But she hadn't until that moment seen it for herself.  As she stood there holding the vacuum cleaner...

Giulia:  You neighbor just put this on my feet and told me, 'Take it, just take it.'  And then she left and slammed her door.

Knowing that your crazy requires immediately, intentional reaction, I took the vacuum cleaner from Giulia's hands, banged on your door, and loudly reminded your that "THIS IS NOT OURS!"  The vacuum cleaner stayed outside like that for several hours, but I imagine that at some point you took it back in your animal-print laden house.  I have not seen the vacuum to this day... and I can't imagine what kind of fate it met.

You throw strange things in our backyard, April 2010
Stacy, why do you throw things in our backyard? Just because your paranoia makes you think that people come into your yard and mess with your artifacts, does not mean that we want those items in our yard as well.  The most recent item we found was a small metal carabiner.  Since we didn't know if you wanted it back, we put it out on our front stoop so that you could retrieve it if so desired.  A few hours later, Phil and I opened our front door to find the carabiner missing... or so we thought.  In fact, upon closer inspection, we found the carabiner under our door mat.  But not alone.  Along with the carabiner was a strange curved piece of metal... possibly a fancy shower curtain hanger?  Thank you for the thought, but we don't really have a use for the strange metal objects that you put under our door mat or throw into our backyard.

So, we put the metal pieces out in plain view again, in case you wanted them back. And of course, a few hours later, they were gone.  Glad you found a use for your metal objects.  Please stop giving us shit, even if your intentions are good (which I assume they are not).

Today, you revved your car engine at me, May 2010
Today, while I was putting my stuff in my car to go to school, I heard a loud engine sound coming from the opposite end of the parking lot.  As I looked up, I recognized your car taking the curve of the lot a little too fast.  To avoid a potential confrontation when you parked in your space next to mine (or should I say, when you park your car across TWO spaces at a 45 degree angle like a maniac driver), I quickly put my things away, and started to close the door.  I looked up at you to ensure we would avoid contact with one another, to see you staring at me with a pretty hostile look on your face.  I suspected that maybe it was the reflection in your windshield, or maybe just the fact that you always look like that, but neverless I was frigtened.  I suppose you also did not want to talk to me, which is why you abruptly increased your speed and revved your car engine at me as you proceeded to drive like a crazy women through the parking lot at easily 30 mph.

I don't really mind that you revved your engine at me and stared me down as you drove by.  But I am concerned about the fact that we have children and animals living in our complex, which might be walking through the parking lot next time you decide to drive your car around the block trying to break the sound barrier.  SLOW THE HECK DOWN, WOMAN!  For the kids!

Well Stacy, now that all of the events have transpired, I suggest that we not be friends.  I'd like to say that it's not personal, but it is.  You are crazy, and please keep it to yourself. Otherwise, I'm just going to have to continue chronicling these events for the public to judge.

TTYN,
Maggie

A letter to Congress

Dear Congreswoman Capps,

This letter asks letter asks for your support for, and introduction of an amendment to the National Traffic and Motor Vehicle Safety Act. As you are aware, the NTMVS Act created the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration. NHTSA is charged with developing and enforcing safety, theft-resistance, and fuel economy standards for motor vehicles. I believe that there is an unregulated safety issue on the roads, and I am asking that you introduce legislation directing NHTSA to develop new safety standards regulating this issue.

Imagine that you are sitting in your American-made Hyundai Sonata, pulling up to an intersection, waiting paitently at the traffic light for the left-arrow to turn green. The Mexican-born Ford Fusion in front of you has its turn signal on. This is where things get tricky. You engage your turn-signal as the red LEDs before you illuminate. Together, the two sets of turn-signals make a beautiful symphony. Before you know it, the Fusion's signal goes silent, making your signals unexpected soloists. Something is clearly going wrong. The beautiful symphony is nothing but a crude, dissonant, rhythm-less brass line. In a misguided effort to right this wrong, you sit at the light, manually flicking your turn-signal on and off in sync with the Fusion.

Congresswoman, the need to manually flick your turn-signal is more distracting than texting while driving. It can leave you unaware of your surroundings, oblivious to pedestrians entering the intersection, or vehicles crossing in front of you. Ma'am, this is an obvious safety issue. With your legislation, we can direct the NHTSA to regulate turn-signal frequency. Why should innocent drivers be distracted by over-eager turn-signals? By requiring car makers to set a particular frequency for their cars' turn signals, we can save lives. I look forward to a safer America.

Sincerely yours,

Philip